Knowing
by PromiseThis
Summary: Somehow, even if Oz had slowly trusted that one way or another Gil would keep to his word and by his side, it never meant that Gil loved him. And so the confession came as a rather unfortunately awkward shock. Oz x Gil.


Small spoilers referencing to the Pandora Hearts Caucus Race novel #1, for Oz and Gil's conversation at the end of the Nightray story.

Again from the kink meme. The prompt:  
"Oz and Gil Angst/Comfort/Fluff with Oz's confusion and fear of letting himself love and be loved. Anon would also like if Oz and Gil were together, but Oz never really thought much beyond the physical aspect of their relationship until Gil expressed his feelings. It's not necessary though"

And thus, this fic happened.

**Warnings:** everything that Oz/Gil pairing entails + adult content.

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It was quite possibly the most awkward moment between the two of them that Oz could recall.

Gil had terrible timing. _The worst_, most terrible, timing! Oz wanted to blame it all on that, but once the awkward air was gone, he could only blame himself.

Gil had absolutely no idea what was going on, but his immediate reaction was to blame himself, though he had no idea exactly what for, and to worry about Oz.

But Oz was too busy blaming himself.

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.*.*.

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"_Ah...!"_

Oz gripped tightly at the sheets beneath him as his back arched and his thoughts were reduced to –there, there, _there, right there-! _

His hips were canted up, calloused fingers digging purposefully into his hipbones to keep the angle, thighs spread around Gil's waist, and Gil's cock slipping in and out against _just_ the right spot.

They were getting good at this, Oz thought, as he lost himself in the rhythm of their bodies. The grip Gil had on his hips didn't allow him much movement to help, but he had just enough conscious thought to clench his muscles with every out-stroke and get a breathless gasp or groan wetly pressed into his ear for his efforts each time.

"Oz..." Oz turned his head to press his cheek against Gil's neck as the older man panted and moaned hot breath against his ear and temple. He nuzzled the faintly sweat dampened hair at Gil's neck fondly, freeing one hand from his hold on the sheets to wrap around Gil's shoulders as those hips rolled _deeper_, closing pleasure glazed eyes to savor the moment.

It was nice, this closeness. Pleasure all blurred together, ridding stress and tension, and even more opportunities for mischief, but the physical closeness he quietly enjoyed to himself.

Gil's scent, the scent of his childhood friend, arms around him, always pressing and pulling closer instead of apart. As if that's how they were meant to be. As if that's what they wanted.

As if he belonged.

Lies, or a delusion, really, he was aware. Foolish nonsense. But it was nice to feel that way if only for a few moments, even if just pretend, whenever they did this. The thoughts never lasted long, so neither did the guilt for thinking them.

"Hah! _Ah-_"

Gil's hand wrapped around his length, tugging insistently as those thrusts got harder, faster, and the thoughts are gone as quickly as they came. He's so close, Gil is too, silly Gil- always trying to get him to finish first, ever a servant. Oz gropes above himself somewhat blindly, aiming to undo his companion first as well, ever a brat.

Gil presses a weak kiss into his hair and whimpers, pressing down into him and moving lips to his ear- presumably to whine at him or warn him that he's about to...

"I love you, Oz_..._"

-Eh?

Cold weight spread throughout Oz's body replacing the heat, confusion buzzing painfully in his ears.

What?

"W-what? Wait..." Oz could barely whisper, words heavy and lost on his tongue.

"So much." Gil's pleasured whisper continues, with oblivious sincerity, and Oz can't breathe. His body is at the edge of orgasm, and so is Gil's- but his mind is suddenly flooded with panic, chest tight, and he doesn't even know what he's saying or doing now other than he needs to make it stop.

"Stop."

Gil hesitated, leaning back slightly in confusion, seeming to think he's imagining things, as if he can't believe what he's just heard- _what *he's* just heard_- but doesn't stop, in fact- his cock continues to hit deep- brushing _there_, and Oz bites his lip and wants to scream. He nearly does.

"Stop!"

"Oz!?" Gil freezes entirely then, worry rampant in his eyes, thighs and hands trembling with repressed pleasure and tension. "Oz, did I hurt you!?"

Oz can't answer, he just shoves roughly at Gil's chest.

Gil pulls back not at all quick enough from hovering close anxiously. He slips out soon after and it makes Oz's body ache, and for reasons he can't even explain it makes him furious at himself.

"Oz, Oz, what's wrong?" Gil is probably blaming himself, and Oz would like to tell him it's not his fault, but the most glaring thought in his mind is still '_Why did you just say that?_' so he can't bring himself to say anything at all.

"I just... need a moment." Oz finally manages to mumble before he stumbles to the bathroom in his shirt, legs protesting. Gil moves to help him but Oz waves him away, wincing when he quite nearly slams the door in Gil's face. Once he's locked the latch Oz sighs, sliding to the floor against the door trying to catch his breath and calm his body. A moment later, he feels the muffled _thump_ as Gil does the same and slides to the floor pressed up against the opposite side of the thin wood.

"Oz...?" Gil's voice calls out softly.

"...Yeah?"

"Did I hurt you?"

Gil's voice sounds so depressed and pitiful that Oz can't help but let out a huff of laughter. Gil's worries are greatly wasted on him.

"No, you didn't."

"Are you sure? What happened?"

'_I'm not sure...'_ Oz stared down at his hands for a moment before answering.

"Gil, I'm sorry." For more than Gil will ever realize, really.

"Eh?" he could hear Gil shifting around in confusion at his back. "For what?"

Ignoring the question, Oz continued on, "I'll come out in awhile. Don't worry about it, Gil. Just..."

The heavy silence suggested that Gil understood the dismissal, and after a moment Gil moved away from the door with audible reluctance.

"I'll come check on you later..."

...

Once the only sound was his own quiet breath, the pressure resurfaced.

Why?

Why had Gil said that...?

He'd never said it before. What had prompted it? Was it even true?

Oz was sensitive to lies. He hadn't had any inkling of insincerity, but then how was that possible...

Love.

He'd like to say maybe Gil meant a different kind of love, but when one says that whilst one's erection is inside of your backside that sort of rules out the likelihood. Geez... He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry.

Oz pulled his knees to his chest and hung his head. Gil had to make everything difficult, didn't he? Though he only had himself to blame. He must have messed something up along the way, big surprise.

What was he going to do? He'd never planned on this, wasn't even sure if he wanted it to be true- he didn't understand.

He was just coming to realize that people actually cared what happened to him. Elliot taught him that much. Even if his father's rejection remained present, somehow he had friends that felt differently. But as Oz understood it, that was still a lot different than romantic love. He was constantly trying to better himself; wanted to move forward, wanted to feel he was worthy of that friendship. Of caring for others and being cared for. But, love... Why, and how, could anyone fall in _love_ with him?

Cute girls deserved to be flattered, in Oz's honest opinion. Not to mention that flirting could be fun. But it was all done with no actual expectation of reciprocation or remote thought of the future from him.

He and Gil hadn't been fooling around for all that long. The idea had only crossed his mind after a fairly random conversation about marriage obligations and the like as members of dukedom. Gil had seemed so unbothered by the concept that should they both remain single for the rest of their lives, they'd still spend it together.

The image had seemed ridiculously awkward to Oz. Forever? With no cute girls? Just the two of them? Wrinkly old virgins hand in hand until the last sunset? Pfffft, what a pair.

He'd decided that, well... if they were going to spend the rest of their lives both together and alone, they needn't miss out on the rest... He'd always been curious himself, for the things that went on behind closed doors. And he and Gil had always been so close, it hadn't seemed so strange a jump.

And yet...

Gil's original promise of "forever" had been different. It had always seemed different to Oz. Something he wanted to believe, against better judgment. Wanted to believe so badly, though he'd never admit it. They were connected, loyal by title, by friendship, by shadows, Gil was different, Gil was... Gil. Oz resigned himself a fool, but he could trust in that. Gil would probably never realize how desperately Oz clung to that promise.

That one promise could end up true even if everything else fell apart.

Yet, somehow, even if he'd slowly trusted that one way or another Gil would keep to his word and by his side, it never meant that Gil loved him. He'd always had himself convinced that Gil would be better off if he were gone, just like everyone else, even while believing in that promise.

Despite his struggles forward, ever slowly improving, still, he's always asking too much. Always hurting others. Always a burden- that which he abhors to be the most.

But he could never seem to help himself.

Somewhere along the line, reaching out for Gil became a habit.

Alice too, now.

Perhaps that was where the root of fault lay.

His selfish extended hands.

But Gil never complained. Gil thought _he_ was the selfish one.

Stupid Gil.

Maybe it figured, only Gil was stupid enough to love someone like him?

Oz couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up from that thought.

It was funny.

It was so damned funny, he couldn't stop laughing. Laughing so hard he was crying.

.

So funny it hurt.

.

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Gilbert Nightray was somewhere in between a panic attack and a heart attack on the scale of stress, as he returned to his room where he'd left Oz after as long as he could stand to be away- which admittedly wasn't that long, but his concerns shuffled his priorities rather swiftly.

Technically, an interruption or setback during their ...intimate acts, was nothing new. Gilbert could mournfully recall several hideous embarrassments and mistakes that would linger in the back of his mind like his worries at the least helpful of times. But this felt ...different.

Oz had put a lot of effort into attempting to convince him that he wouldn't hurt him, that it was okay, always would be okay. It never managed to wholly stop the worry and guilt. He was selfish enough to have allowed this progression of their relationship at all. Even though rejecting Oz was something he couldn't fathom all the same. It was an endless, useless, conflict. He did what he could to make it up to Oz, nonetheless.

If it took his whole life, he'd make it up to Oz.

But this...

_What had even happened!?_ Gilbert had no idea, but he felt lower than shoe scum for it. He must have hurt Oz, somehow, with the look that had been on Oz's face.

But things had been- Gil's face reddened at the memory- going so well, so fluidly, he couldn't figure what had suddenly happened to cause it. He needed to know, so that it wouldn't happen again.

Knocking briskly out of courtesy habit, he stepped into the room and his eyes went straight to the bathroom where Oz had been when he'd left. The door was cracked open and the sound of the water running, so he shut the door behind himself and made his way over.

"Oz...?" Gil tapped the door frame awkwardly, anxious for a response.

The sound of water remained the only noise and Gilbert's brow creased with concern. "...Oz? Are you okay?"

No response. With a huff, he pushed open the bathroom door and baffled at the sight. The room was empty, tub plugged and filling up, but no Oz in sight. "What...? Oz?"

"Haa~!"

"Gyaaaaaaaa-!"

With a shove from behind and a loud, wet, mess of a prank- Gilbert was sent careening right into the bathwater in a flailing pile of limbs.

Coughing and sputtering, Gil glared at the blond culprit standing in the doorway.

"Was that really necessary?"

"Yes," Oz nodded innocently, "Gil was far too tense."

"Well now I'm tense _and_ wet." Gil grumbled, reaching back to shut off the faucet.

"Still an improvement." Oz giggled. Gilbert begged to differ, but- his scowl softened at Oz's mischief as his earlier concerns resurfaced.

"Oz ... will you tell me what happened now?"

Oz smiled faintly before walking over to sit at the edge of the tub, setting his hand over Gil's wet one that was gripping the ledge and patting it lightly.

"Hey, Gil," he looked down at his knees, kicking his legs absentmindedly. "Did you mean what you said?"

"What I said?" Gilbert shifted uneasily in the water as he mulled over their conversations that day- despite the vaguely relaxing warmth he'd really like to get out of the tub, but Oz was sitting right there- and he couldn't recall saying anything questionable. "When?"

Oz's expression dimmed and he was silent for a long moment, green eyes turned down to the tiles and unseeing.

Gil couldn't recall what he was referring to? Really? Those words that had thrown Oz so off balance-

"Do you really love me?"

There was no immediate answer so Oz looked over his shoulder curiously only to find himself met with a slack-jawed and absolutely incredulous expression- his soaked companion blinking at him in apparent shock.

"Wha- th-that's-! Oz, don't joke right now. I'm being serious!" Gilbert finally sputtered, blush raising on his cheeks.

"I'm not joking."

Gilbert looked Oz up and down, for any sign of insincerity, and finding none his embarrassed expression fell. That's what this was about? But-

Oh...

Well. That was... unfortunate.

"You... don't feel the same?" he finally responded, averting his gaze. Just what had they been doing all this time then? How much had he misunderstood?

"That's not it. It's... not that. But I wasn't aware that... you..."

There was a loud splash as Gilbert suddenly reached out and seized Oz's arm with blatant urgency, hand quickly soaking the surrounding fabric of Oz's white shirt.

"Oz," his grip tightened as he spoke. "You really didn't know?"

Oz turned his lips to a pout. Well that made him sound like the stupid one didn't it? "Hey-!" he yelped as more water wet his clothes when Gil lurched upward slightly again.

"How could you not- I-!" Gilbert sputtered further, cheeks red but expression serious and concerned, "I would never- with, with someone I didn't...!"

"Ah..." Oz's eyes widened, and a short disbelieving laugh escaped before he could quell it.

Of course... _of course. _

_How could he have been so stupid?_

"H-hey! Don't laugh! I'm serious!"

Gil wasn't the type of person to indulge in such a thing. Just for pleasure, just for fun... Not Gilbert. Gil was loyal and dedicated to a point of desperation. Hadn't he told himself that before? Oz knew all of this. So why then? Why had he ever thought things were as shallow as he'd told himself? Had he been blinded by his own denial the entire time?

It still held true that he had trouble seeing himself. Understanding himself. His own feelings. But this...

Was it possible to fool yourself like that? Or was he just so oblivious concerning himself? It was an unpleasant realization, much like a slap in the face, to have been thrown off by something he should have known from the start. And then the original problem...

Love.

"Oz..." Distracted, Oz looked back over. Gil looked just as unsure as he felt.

"D-do you... I mean, are you... Do you want to stop now? If this isn't what you wanted..."

Stop? The blond blinked at the words for a short moment, before shaking his head. He already knew his answer.

Honestly.

Because if he were being truthful with himself, he'd always been in love. He'd just never let himself _hope_ for it. Not after his father.

Faced with the reality of it now, it was... a little frightening. Intimidating.

But adapting, accepting changes, that was his specialty wasn't it?

They didn't even act any differently as it was, there wasn't much to do aside from- open his eyes.

To what he'd been keeping from himself.

Curly strands of damp hair were falling all askew in Gil's face, and Oz leaned forward in amusement to push them aside. It added a strangely attractive charm, but Gil still looked ridiculous sitting in the tub with his clothes on.

Two golden eyes unlike anyone else's watched him carefully for a response.

Inhaling slowly, strangely nervous, he steeled his own nerves before giving one.

"I couldn't possibly stop now," Oz scoffed, lifting an eyebrow and giving a suspicious look that made Gilbert even more confused. "When all this time you've apparently been making love to me and I didn't even know it, huh? I've been missing out."

"Oz!" the servant yelped, turning bright red and sending water droplets flying in every direction as he flailed. Oz giggled, pleased, and it was Gil's turn to scowl. And then it was Oz yelping and flailing as Gilbert jerked the back of his shirt and he fell backwards into the tub sloshing water onto the floor.

"Y-you jerk!"Oz squeaked in surprise, turning to make a thoroughly offended face at the equally wet man underneath him. At least the water was warm, but he still wrinkled his nose at the feel of wet clothing weighted against his skin.

He supposed he deserved that.

"You can't complain." Gilbert grumbled, and then pulled the young man down against his chest, wrapping arms around him tight.

Oz grimaced at the feel of all the damp cloth between them again before his eyes widened and his fingers curled into the transparent fabric of Gil's shirt. Pressed against the warm expanse of Gil's chest, heartbeat thudding underneath his fingertips, the closeness suddenly hit him in a strange new way. Gil's breath puffed softly against his ear as the other man held him close and sighed with something of a desperation, nuzzling the crook of his neck slightly, arms tightening a fraction more without a care for their wet clothes.

Oz felt butterflies suddenly jump to life in his stomach and a strange tightness in his throat as his breath caught.

How peculiar. Even though they'd done this how many times before? The only difference was that now he _knew_. Knew what had been there all along, he'd just never realized it. Nothing had changed but _knowing _and somehow it felt so different.

Gil starts to pull back, hand rising to his cheek, and Oz knows they're about to kiss.

Something almost like fear creeps up his spine and raises the hair on the back of his neck, but the rest of him trembles with what he almost feels is _relief_. Almost like he's been waiting for this, and Oz wonders if he really has been.

And as Gil pulls back to look at him first, pushing the wet hair out of his face, Oz wonders if Gil feels it too.

The heartbeat under his palm picks up speed and they both pause with a collective shudder as their lips meet.

If he weren't so shocked and distracted by the difference Oz was sure he'd be blushing.

It's not quite like the first time all over again- not near as clumsy, but it's somehow a new experience all the same. Gil's wet chest rose and fell heavily beneath him as they continued, and the feeling of being warm and wet suddenly changed from unappealing to hot and alluring.

"Oz..." Gilbert let his eyes fall shut as he whispered and raised his other hand from the water to trace up Oz's thigh as heat flooded into his face. The boy never had put on more than his shirt, and with Oz's legs clenching around his waist and the growing hardness pressing against his stomach through the wet fabric his body suddenly reminded him that they'd been interrupted earlier.

"We should get up-" Gil suddenly suggests, lifting slightly out of the tub, but Oz doesn't let him. Instead he just rocks into the movement and shivers, pressing and flattening his palms against Gil's shoulders.

"We should get out of these wet _clothes_." Oz corrects, tugging at the soggy fabric of Gil's shirt. Unbuttoning and then struggling to get the sopping fabric off of him. Gilbert fumbles for a moment a bit embarrassed, before helping him out of his own shirt and wriggling with far more effort than should have been allowed- to get out of his wet pants. Once their clothes are all thrown over the side with a wet slap of heavy water, Gilbert winces at the mess they've made, but Oz's behavior quickly distracts him back to the matter at hand.

Oz is looking down at him, eyes bright with an emotion Gilbert can only assume is somewhere between eager and nervous, which in turn makes him feel like his own heart is heavy in his throat because he knows why.

It saddens him, but also renews his determination.

"So are you going to show me?" Oz asked teasingly.

"Show you what?" Gilbert returns skeptically, still debating on how to go about things.

"What I've been missing out on all this time, of course." Oz shrugs. But he's stupidly embarrassed because he can't even say it. _Making love_. No matter how close they got, they were nothing close to romantic. Oz didn't really want them to be either. They had always been friends first, before anything else. And roses were for ladies in his mind.

This? Words. Actions. _Knowing_. Was more than he would've ever considered, and now he just wanted to experience it.

It was a mysterious thing. Looking into someone else's face, someone you've seen most every day of your life you can remember, expectantly, and knowing how they felt.

Waking up to the same face the next morning. Watching the other as they slept and feeling heavy painful weight in his chest, and yet his throat tight as those eyes open- somehow both the same feeling. Somehow, a desirable pain. And as Gil righted himself and pulled his hips closer, leaning forward to press their foreheads together though their damp hair, Oz wondered if the mornings would be any different either.

"You never missed anything, it was here the whole time, you brat."

"Hey!" Oz snorted, pouting in spite of himself and shoving Gil in the shoulder.

But it's the truth. Really nothing is different, other than a sense of awareness that hadn't been there before.

"But I have no complaints. I'll show you as many times as you want, for as long as you will let me." Gilbert vowed sincerely, and Oz wondered how he could say something so embarrassing with a straight face. But it was Gil, after all.

"Then hurry up and show me before the water gets cold, idiot." Oz says then, because he doesn't know how else to react. And after an exasperated sputter, it at least gets Gilbert to respond.

Their lips met once again in an open mouthed kiss, and they both seemed to melt into each other as their tongues met. The warm water was an interesting addition to the feeling of their hips coming together, and Oz moaned low in his throat as their hips rolled under the surface.

As Oz pressed down and seemed to be attempting to meld their bodies together, Gilbert raised a hand to pet through the boy's damp hair fondly with a shaky breath. He had work to do, hadn't he? His other hand raised with the intent to pleasure, but he was filled with such an overwhelming anxiousness to be soft and slow, that he wasn't quite sure where to start. In the end he settled his palm against the blond's hip, letting his fingers stroke along the ridge of the bone there, and down along his inner thigh.

The action only seemed to make Oz more impatient, and the boy groaned, arching into the hand at his hip and then squirming around to get friction where he wanted it. Gilbert bit his lip trying not to lose his concentration, but it had always been impossible for him not to be distracted by Oz.

He gives up trying to resist entirely when Oz whines and reaches between them to grasp at his erection.

"_Gil."_ Oz hissed, gasping as both their breaths came short in their excitement. He felt overwhelmed with the heady rush of want pooling in his abdomen, but it was familiar after all. Even with all he knows now it all still comes as naturally as it had before. He does what he wants, lets his lips fall wherever his instincts and desires led them to, and Gil reacts wonderfully as always.

Oz dipped his head to taste the skin under Gil's jaw and down his neck as Gilbert trembled and whimpered beneath him. His other hand pulled and stroked at the swelling flesh thickening under his palm.

"This is hardly hygienic." Gil complains of the bathwater when he has the breath, but before Oz can scoff at his petty complaint his voice is stolen away when his servant grabs his hips to readjust him and moves them so that his erection is gliding teasingly between his thighs. Oz allowed his head to fall back as he savored the feeling and his voice returned in a harsh groan.

"Gil, come on." Oz pleads.

"I'm trying to go slow." Gil admits breathlessly, but Oz seems to determined to have him give that up, what with how he started clenching his thighs and grinding, trying to pull him closer, and so Gil doesn't make him wait. They were both left unsatisfied earlier, and now they're both strained for completion.

A breath later Gilbert's fingers are inside of him under the warmth of the water, and Oz is riding back into his hand shamelessly. It doesn't take but a moment of twisting and curling for the fingers to find that spot that sends him lurching forward with a splash and clutching at the curls of Gil's hair for leverage while the rest of him presses back into the touch.

He comes in a quivering mess nearly abruptly after, giving an almost startled yelp before he can even think to hold back, and Gilbert shudders a breath into the crook of his neck, eyes watching diligently.

As the fingers start to pull away Oz shakes his head dizzily, and reaches down to pull and shift so Gil's arousal is pressed into their place.

Gil freezes, letting him do what he wants but keeping himself still as to not push when Oz has already spent himself. But Oz wants to feel all of it, and to see Gil finished as well. He holds his breath for a long moment before shoving himself down as he exhales, and that's all it takes.

"Oz, be careful." Gilbert scolds with a hoarse gasp, though he's already moving and pulling Oz into his thrusts again.

The water really does feel weird then, Oz notices in a daze- it adds a strange roughness and drag to their movements even though it's wet, and it isn't nearly as helpful as actual lubricant. But he's still stretched decently enough from earlier and then again from moments ago that it doesn't exactly hurt. Or it hurts the good way, anyway. More so with his body still sensitive from orgasm.

He loses himself in the feeling again. Of being full, Gil moving inside of him, and limbs wrapping around him. And this time he's not pretending that he belongs there, and that's really weird too. It leaves him with a floaty feeling that he wonders if it's relief again or just the lack of guilt this time.

Gil comes soon after with a strangled moan pressed to his neck and a few last jerky thrusts upward. The feel of it already had Oz shuddering, but then Gil wrapped those long fingers around his renewed arousal and pulled him down over the edge again along with him.

They breathed heavily against each other for a long moment before Oz finally shivered and whined.

"Gil the water's _cold_."

Gilbert sighed tiredly, a bit frustrated with himself that he hadn't drawn things out more.

"It's also _dirty_. And whose idea was that?"

"Pffft. I don't know what you're implying." Oz turned away and draped himself over the side of the tub while Gilbert rose up to drain it and restart the faucet.

Once that is done with and they are actually using the bathtub for its intended purposes, and Oz has of course talked Gil into and succeeding in having his back washed- Oz leaned into the firmness of Gil's back behind him, feeling the other man flinch in surprise and glance at him curiously before carrying on with cleaning himself, thinking.

An hour prior he'd been thinking he ruined everything, and now he wonders if they've fixed something he hadn't known was broken instead.

Regardless, there's a mysterious weight that feels as if it's been removed from his shoulders, and replaced by a different weight in his chest. There's still a lingering trace of disbelief and uncertainty, but that he's used to and never expected to leave so swiftly.

It's nice though.

Almost surreal.

A short time later, they're laying down in preparation for sleep, and Oz can't stop wondering if the morning will feel any different. If Gil's face will look the same, or if something complicated will have changed. It's an obscure thing to be obsessed with, but he can't help himself.

Gil curls up protectively around him, though still allowing him his space, but Oz rids it to press into the warmth, feeling oddly cold as well as determined.

He tangled their legs together purposely, bodies pressed flushed together, before letting himself relax and feeling Gil hesitate for just a breath before doing the same. He's thoroughly tired himself out, but Oz feels stupidly accomplished that they're going to sleep this way not because he's feeling like a needy brat for once, but because they both want to. Even if Gil had been wanting and thinking this way all along.

There.

Burrowing into Gil's shoulder, Oz finally manages to silence his thoughts and reach his consciousness towards sleep.

_Far_ too much emotional debate for one day.

But just as he's starting to feel himself drift off Gilbert whispered the same confession as earlier into his ear wistfully and he is suddenly wide awake again.

Barely suppressing a grumble of embarrassment, Oz held himself perfectly still as he felt himself flush pink in embarrassment, hoping Gil would assume him asleep in the dim light.

He was supposed to say it in return, right? But he'd already pretty much admitted to it earlier, hadn't he? Speaking was decidedly harder than feeling, and so he held his silence- but he was certain he could feel Gilbert watching him quietly.

Minutes later Oz felt Gil's muscles relax and his breathing slow, so he opened his eyes and stared into the darkness, irritated with himself.

It was just words they both already knew, why was he being so stupid?

'_Me too..._' Oz finally brought himself to whisper pathetically into the darkness.

A quiet sound of satisfied amusement huffed into his hair above him and Oz gawked, throwing his hand upward to smack Gil in the jaw for good measure.

"Ow!"

Stupid Gil using his own tricks against him.

"Shut up, I'm trying to sleep."

Of course.

"Goodnight, Oz."

And so the night passed again with Gilbert falling asleep in small, boyish arms, and Oz wrapping himself around something he could hold onto. A mirror of the norm but different all the same.

.

It didn't feel so wrong reaching out if someone was reaching back.

.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.

-End

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Wow that was so sappy did everyone survive? x-D


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